P slli 

5525 





Book ' : ''\ 



Copyright 1^^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



DRIFTWOOD 



For Sale by 

St. Mary's College 
Shepard, Ohio 

The Dominican academy 
56 East 68th Street 
New York 

St. Mary's Academy 
444 Orange St , New Haven, Conn. 
Price, 75 cents {^postage, s cents) 



DRIFTWOOD 



BY 






NEW YORK 

FREDERICK H. HITCHCOCK 

MCMXI 






Copyright, 1911 
By THE LADIES' LITERARY INSTITUTE 



CCLA283078 



Lovingly Dedicated 

TO 

"My Mother" 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Driftwood ii 

Peace, Be Still 12 

My Child, I Died for Thee 14 

Mother 16 

Life 20 

Consecration 21 

The Dawning Day 22 

The Bride of Heaven 23 

In the Shadows 24 

The Song of Summer 25 

The Message of the Butterflies .... 27 

Good Night 28 

The Blessed Mother's Lullaby .... 29 

Wishes 30 

Lines to Bishop H 32 

Class Day, 1909 34 

Beneath the Cross 35 

A Lesson 36 

Lines to S 38 

A Question 39 

When the Storm is Past 40 

The Fallen Oak 41 

Comfort 42 

The Sea 43 

Hearts , 45 

A Wish 46 

Rest 47 



PREFACE 

Driftwood does not claim to be a book of 
poems, nor does its author claim the laurels of a 
poet. This little book is a collection of simple 
verses and songs — fragments from a human 
heart, gathered — like driftwood — on the shores of 
human life, and sent forth to warm and cheer 
some other human heart. 

The verses are lowly but their mission is ex- 
alted, and their author can but hope that in some 
humble way they may accomplish their noble 
destiny. 



DRIFTWOOD 

THE sea from its snowy-crested waves 
Throws high on the pebbly strand 
The broken spars of many a ship 

From the shores of a distant land. 
And oft in the twilight's silver mist 

From shore and sandy bars, 
Are gathered in the shattered wrecks 

Of these torn and broken spars. 
Then, on some lonely fisher's hearth, 

When the wind doth wail and moan, 
They burn with bright and ruddy glow, 

To warm his cheerless home. 
So from the ocean of my heart, 

These thoughts, like broken spars. 
Are cast upon the silvery strand 

Of life's bleak and lonely bars, 
And if, perchance, they're gathered in, 

Like driftwood from the sea, 
Oh! may they cheer some lonely life. 

Some heart — from sorrow free ! 



II 



PEACE, BE STILL 

THE wind arose o'er vale and mountain 
height, 
The trees bent low before the sweeping gale. 
And on the shore the surf did moan and wail, 
While out at sea the waves rose in their might, 
And threatened to engulf a fragile barque 
Brave struggling through the night so wild and 

dark. 
Within the hold, the Master long had slept, 
The fishers twelve in fear their vigil kept 
Till one who for his faithless love e'er wept. 
Cried out, in trust, "Lord, save us, or we perish." 
The Master then arose from where He lay. 
And, turning toward the sea whose foamy spray 
Dashed high against the torn and flapping sail. 
Said, "Peace, be still," unto the angry gale. 
And lo ! above its loud and moaning wail 
His voice divine rang out in accents clear — 
The mighty wind obeyed its God's command, 
A wondrous calm came o'er the night so drear, 
And in the dawn, the ship came safe to land. 

E'en so it is in all the storms of life 
If thou but trust Him without doubt or fear, 
The Master will in each dark hour of strife 
Speak gently to thy sad and troubled soul, 



12 



And thro' the gloom, His voice, like bells that 

toll. 
Will ring above the storm, as e'en of old, 
And calm each wave of passion, grief or woe, 
As on the sea so many years ago. 
His gracious words with joy thy soul will fill. 
To thy poor heart He'll say, "O, Peace be still." 



13 



MY CHILD, I DIED FOR THEE 

THE day of my life, O dearest Lord, 
Is fading fast away, 
The twilight shadows gather round, 

I cannot see the way; 
I cannot see the way, dear Lord, 

For my sight is failing fast, 
I cannot hear Thy gentle voice, 

Nor feel the tender clasp 
Of those dear Hands that bled for me 

In the ages now long past; 
In all my life I cannot see 

One deed that merits love, 
One deed that merits blessings 

From Thy treasure house above. 
Nor can I find one single act 

My loyalty to prove. 
For my thoughts, my words, e'en more my love 

Were given, it seems to rne, 
To pride, to self, to human love, 

To every love, save Thee. 
Then, what am I to do, sweet Lord, 

When my day of life is past, 
When the shadows long and darker grow, 

And the twilight gathers fast? 
When night has come, and Thou hast called. 

Who'll plead my cause with Thee, 



14 



What answer shall I make my Judge, 

When He shall question me? 
There'll not be one to plead my cause, 

Nor answer aught for me, 
Just as 1 am I'll come, sweet Lord, 

Without one plea, to Thee, 
Excepting this, that Thou did'st die, 

My dearest Lord, for me! 
These words, O Lord, shall ever bring 

Sweet peace and joy to me, 
In hours of grief, I'll hear them still, 

"My Child, I died for Thee." 
And e'en tho' my life doth wasted seem, 

My best deeds — poor, despised — 
Yet will I hear Thee pleading still, 

"My Child, for thee I died. 
Be not afraid to meet me, child. 

For I know that thou hast tried. 
And even tho' thy love so worthless seeui 

To win it, Child, I died." 
O I let these words, my sweetest Lord, 

Forever rest with me — 
In Thy last call, O ! let me hear, 

"My Child, I died for thee." 



15 



MOTHER 

WOULD you look into my memory 
And see the paintings, dear, 
That I've hung with joy or sorrow 
In its great halls, year by year? 

Then, let me draw you closer, 

We cannot sit apart. 
For the vision of these pictures 

Can come but thro' my heart. 

Scenes are there of my childhood, 

Scenes full of light and joy, 
When I laughed and played with my brother. 

The fair one, I called "my boy." 

The haunts in the deep, wild woodland, 
Where we roamed the live-long day. 

The meadows all snowy with daisies 
Or sweet with the new-mown hay. 

The brook that murmured so gently 

In the heart of the forest old, 
The willows that wept above it. 

All bathed in the sunlight gold. 



i6 



The pebbly beach of the ocean, 

Where we gathered the pink-edged shells 
Or caught the floating seaweed 

Brought in by the sea's deep swells. 

The point of rocks just above us 
Where many a ship went down 

When the sea tossed and writhed in fury 
Under the storm-spirit's frown. 

All these I see in my memory, 

These scenes that have long since flown, 
And others are there so sacred 

I tremble to make them known. 

But, now I will tell you of them, 
These memories of other years, 

But you must not mind if I falter. 
Or my eyes o'erflow with tears. 

As the sun draws near to its setting, 
It shines with more glorious light, 

But the shadows it throws are longer 
And deep as the darkest night. 

Just so it is with us ever, 

Tho' the light is brightest, dear. 

The shadows must deepen and lengthen 
As the sunset of life draws near. 

17 



Well, I see in the quiet recesses 

Of this sacred, silent hall. 
The memory of a loved one 

Far dearer to me than all. 

I see the paths where we wandered 
Thro' the vales of our home so blest, 

I see the elm's lofty branches, 
Whose shadows afforded us rest. 

I can almost fancy I'm listening 
To the plaintive coo of the dove 

Or the song of the kingly oriole 
In his hanging nest above. 

I can hear the gentle ripple 
Of the brook as it flowed away, 

And it seemed to say in its murmur, 
"I am doing God's will all day." 

And as we sat and rested 

She often would speak to me there 

Of the happy life of the Blessed, 
A life full of love and prayer. 

She spoke to me much of Heaven, 
Where love doth reign supreme, 
Where years will seem like a moment 
And life like a long-lost dream. 

i8 



And as she talked, I fancied 

An angel was sent unto me 
To guide my faltering footsteps 

When the light was too dim to see. 

And who, you ask, is this loved one, 
E'en dearer than friend or brother, 

I answer — it's she who bears, my Child, 
The sacred name of "Mother." 

Then, of all the hearts that have loved me 
And that live in memory's hall, 

The heart of my dearest Mother 
Is more tenderly loved than all. 

And now you no longer wonder 
Why these pictures are dear to me. 

Nor why they'll be ever my solace 
As long as time shall be. 

And when the darkness is ended 
And our souls have winged their flight, 

I'll love you, my Mother, in Heaven, 
In the brightness of God's own light. 



19 



LIFE 

THE wind blew fair — the sun shone bright 
And buds sprang into flower — 
They lived and bloomed and drooped and died- 
So sped their little hour. 

And so it is with human life, 

And human joy and woe — 
They live and bloom and fade and die 

Like the fairest flowers that blow ! 



20 



CONSECRATION 

I GIVE to Thee, my sweetest Lord, 
My heart so weak and frail. 
O! deign accept my fragile gift, 

E'er yet my courage fail. 
Still more, I give my ransomed soul 

That cost Thy Blood and Tears. 
And beg Thee to preserve it pure, 

Mid life's dark night of fears. 
O! take these gifts, my dearest Lord, 
With this poor, poor life of mine. 
And give me grace to say always, 
My sweetest Spouse, 
Fm thine. 



21 



THE DAWNING DAY 

FATHER — is it not yet towards evening? 
Long and weary has been life's day; — 
Father — is it still so far to the end? 
O ! take my hand and lead the way. 

O ! take my trembling hand in Thine, 

For I'm sujffering — poor and sad and weak, 

O ! hold it close for the way is rough 
And the chill night-wind 

Is cold and bleak. 

Draw me near to Thy loving Heart 

And keep me there till the dawning day 
Opens its casements on the world, 

And floods the earth in its golden ray. 
"The dawning day"! dear Lord, for me 

Will it be the dawn of eternal day? 
O ! draw me close, for I fear, my Father — 

So dark and lonely is the way. 



THE BRIDE OF HEAVEN 

O Bride of Christ! O, Thou whose youth- 
ful heart 
Didst spurn the joy and bliss of human love, 
And hiding from the world as doth the dove 
Didst give Thy heart to Christ — no more to 

part — 
We greet thee now, on this thy festal day. 
With love and joy and earnest heartfelt prayer, 
That He Whose Heart Divine didst win thy love 
In youth's glad spring when all the world looked 

fair 

May bless thee now with that great gift most 

rare — 
His peace Divine. And when this life is past, 
Then may He call, in accents low, to thee, 
"Oh ! haste, my Spouse, oh ! haste and come to 

me. 
The shadows lift — the light is breaking fast — 
Oh ! come and rest within my love at last !" 



23 



IN THE SHADOWS 

THE twilight with sylphan shadows 
Wrapped the world in its peaceful hold, 
Yet I still knelt before the altar, 

And my heart-ache once more retold. 
The lights had long since been extinguished, 

The worshippers long since gone. 
But the glory of Benediction 

Filled the air like a mystic song; 
And as I knelt in the silence 

And poured forth my fervent prayer, 
I felt I could live forever — 

In love and worship there. 
When, sudden, a tender whisper 

Seemed to float thro' the incensed air — 
"My child, I'll lead thee to desert lands 

And with love I'll speak to thee there." 
Then I knew 'twas not mid pleasures, 

God wished my love to gain, 
But mid the shadows so dark and drear 

Of earthly sorrow and pain. 



24 



THE SONG OF SUMMER 

I'M happy, laughing summer, 
Perhaps you do not know 
How far I've come to greet you 
On the gentle winds that blow. 
Perhaps you've quite forgotten 

Just what I have to do, 
Or maybe you've been thinking 
I'd quite forgotten you. 

I'll call the feathered songsters 

From Southern hill and vale, 
And tell them it is time to come 

To nest in wood and dale; 
They'll fill once more with music 

The hidden forest glen, 
Their songs will echo sweetly 

In the cool and shady fen. 

I'll wake the pretty flowers 

From their long winter sleep, 
And fill the world with gladness 

And comfort those who' weep. 
And from the fields and woodlands. 

The butterflies I'll call. 
And send them forth well ladened 

With joy for one and all. 



25 



O, butterflies ! then waken, 

Do well your little part, 
And teach all men the lesson 

Each one should take to heart. 
How they can gather sweetness 

From all life's joys and woes, 
As you do gather honey 

From every flower that blows ! 



26 



THE MESSAGE OF THE BUTTERFLIES 

OH ! we are bright, happy butterflies 
That summer hath waked from sleep, 
And hath sent us to teach to all mankind 

Lessons, both gentle and sweet; 
She hath sent us to the fields and woods, 

And to the garden so fair, 
That you may learn from the butterflies 
How God for His children doth care. 

We play in the meadows all day long. 

And from the fragrant flowers 
We gather the honey drop by drop 

As we fly in summer bowers. 
Our wings are so lovely and so bright, 

All covered with gold and gems. 
And when we grow tired we rest them well 

As we swing on the flowers' green stems. 

The flowers that bloom in field and wood 

Are not all so lovely and rare, 
But we find some honey in every one, 

Tho' they be neither fragrant nor fair; 
And so you must do in the garden of life, 

Find virtue in every one, 
And like us then, you'll be happy and free 

For God's Will on earth, you'll have done. 



2.7 



Then, always be gentle and be kind 

To those whom you meet on your way, 
For they all have honey in their hearts, 

Tho' hid from the light of day; 
Find it we pray you as we do, 

Oh! do not pass them by, 
They will give you the sweetness their hearts may 
hold 

And you will be blessed from on high. 



GOOD NIGHT 

THE day is past and shadows deep 
Have fallen o'er the world. 
The sun hath set mid splendors bright. 

The night hath her banners unfurled. 
O, Night! O, Night! how sweet thou art 

To the children of the earth, 
To the weary thou bringest peace and rest, 

To the gay, bright joy and mirth. 
Oh! let us rest in thy gentle arms, 

Let us sleep in thy silvery light, 
Let us say to the world with its joys and cares- 

A long and a sweet "Good-night!" 



28 



THE BLESSED MOTHER'S LULLABY 

Sleep, Baby, sleep — 

Sleep, my Little One, sleep ! 
Mother is near, and angels bright 
Will keep thee ever day and night; 

Sleep, Baby, sleep. 

Sleep, Baby, sleep, 

Sleep, my Little One, sleep ! 
The Shepherds mild are kneeling near, 
They worship Thee with love — not fear; 

Sleep, Baby, sleep. 

Sleep, Baby, sleep. 

Sleep, my Little One, sleep ! 
Three kings have come with gifts most rare 
To offer Thee, my Baby fair. 

Sleep, Baby, sleep. 

Sleep, my Darling ! sleep, 

Watch o'er Thee I keep, 
For Thou Who liest slumbering there — 
Art King of Heaven and earth so fair — 

Sleep, Baby, sleep ! 



29 



WISHES 

MY friend, may God e'er give to thee 
From His treasure-house so blest, 
All gifts that in His wisdom. 
He sees for thee are best ! 

MAY God bless thee with all joys serene 
And peace and heavenly light, 
And thus drive care and grief away 
And make thy days all bright. 

MAY health and strength be ever thine, 
And thy life of many days, 
And may "Success," that happy sprite, 
Attend on all thy ways. 

MAY faithful friends around thee stand. 
In every phase of life. 
To share with thee, thy joys and griefs 
And aid thee in the strife. 



MAY Faith and Hope and Heavenly Love 
Be with thee on the way. 
Until this night of earthly life 
Shall dawn to Eternal Day ! 



30 



THO' my heart is only human, 
Yet can it love, and pray 
That the Shepherd mild may watch o'er thee 
And guard thee on thy way ! 

MAY the joy you drink from the cup of love 
Refresh you thro' life's long day, 
May you then give to others a draught of this joy 
On the roadside of life's weary way! 

LET my love be a light to guide your steps 
Thro' the nights of the coming years. 
Oh! carry it ever within your heart, 
To banish all sorrow and tears ! 



BLOT out the worries, great or small 
That haunt you day and night ! 
Blot out the shadows, long and drear, 
That hide God's glorious light ! 

THE Master spoke to the troubled waves, 
And a calm o'erspread the sea — 
May His voice e'er sound in thy weary heart 
And bring sweet peace to thee. 



31 



LINES TO BISHOP H 

THE trees are wakening 'neath the touch of 
Spring— 
The joyous birds are singing sweet and low, 
From out the earth, the myriad flowers spring, 
And all the world with beauty is aglow. 

With Nature decked as for her nuptial day — 
In this, the gladdest season of the year, 

We greet you now with loving hearts and gay, 
Our Bishop, Father and our friend most dear. 

How often, in the days that now have passed — 
We've watched with eager love for you, our 
Friend, 

And making you a willing captive, fast. 
Have begged for stories — stories without end. 

Oh ! Bishop, how we've loved those evening hours 
And valued all your zealous, kindly care; 

Your favors like the beauteous springtime flowers 
Have filled our lives with sunshine, wondrous 
fair. 

For all these joys and many more untold 
That proved you e'er our trusted friend and true 

Each faithful heart deep gratitude doth hold, 
As holds the flower, its glistening drop of dew ! 



32 



We beg that God may bless you all your days, 
With all His gifts, most wondrous, wise and 
fair, 

And when He meets you on Life's rugged ways, 
Rew^ard you for your zeal and loving care. 



33 



CLASS DAY, 1909 

UNDER the boughs of the Elm tree, dear 
girls, 
Which stands just below the mound, 
We'll gather to-day in its friendly shade— 

And there in the hallowed ground 
We'll plant the wistaria vine, dear girls, 

Which in the future years 
Will blossom and bloom on the old tree's boughs 
Like clusters of beautiful tears. 

And when we return to this home, dear girls, 

Where we've spent such happy days, 
We'll see the vine that we plant to-day — 

With its flowery-laden sprays, 
And then we will think of our youth, dear girls, 

And the precious lessons given 
By those who are showing us now, dear girls^ 

The way to God's beautiful Heaven. 



34 



BENEATH THE CROSS 

ON Calvary's dark and lonely mountain 
Your weary heart is breaking now, 
Beneath the Cross of your Redeemer, 

In trembling grief and fear you bow. 
In grief for one whom God has taken, 

And taking, left you — crushed — forlorn— 
In fear to meet life's lonely struggle, 

No longer by her love upborne. 
Yet know, O ! you whose heart is breaking 

That while you grieve on Calvary's height. 
The loved one, free from sin and sorrow, 

Rejoices in God's blessed light. 
And, tho' you may feel sad, forsaken, 

And your cross too hard to bear, 

Remember that the God who sent it 

Will its burden ever share. 
Then trust to Him, your loving Father, 

He knows for each one what is best; 
He'll give to you His help forever, 

And to your dead most peaceful rest. 
And when the day of life is over. 

With all its sorrow, grief and pain. 
In the blessed light of God's glad kingdom 

You will meet your own Beloved again. 



35 



A LESSON 

THE sun dropped low in the golden west, 
As I stood by the ocean grey, 
And watched the silent ebb of its tide 
And the dance of its waves and spray. 

And as I stood and watched the sea 

From its craggy rocks so wild, 
There passed a vision before my soul 

And I wept, as a little child. 

For I saw the years that had rolled their length 

O'er its breakers, dim and old, 
And I thought of the sorrow and sin and care, 

They had brought in their misty hold. 

Then in my heart I heard these words 

From the ocean's heaving breast; 
"O child of earth, dost thou see no joy, 

Can'st thou find in me, no rest?" 

"Look not for trouble in all you see, 
Think no more of sorrow and care, 

For beneath this veil of bitter tears 
Is love's image — mirrored fair." 



36 



I looked once more on the ocean grey- 
As I stood on its rock-bound coast, 

And I seemed to see 'neath its troubled waves 
The hearts that I loved the most. 

And I thought as I gazed on those waters wild, 

How oft in life's troubled dream 
Dwell hearts aflame with love's warm glow 

And "things are not what they seem." 



37 



LINES TO S 

J'TT^IS my lot and justly so, 

J^ By God ordained, 
To be in all things low, 
Unloved, disdained. 
I am the wren, the silken band — 
The brook which murmurs o'er the sand. 
Expect not then from one so small 
The deeds which men heroic call, 
And wonder not nor grieved be 
If for the care bestowed on me 
My heart still cold, ungrateful seem, 
For in truth there is not one, I ween, 
Who loves you with more grateful love 
Than the self-willed heart you oft reprove. 
And if within your web of life 
I've woven aught of pain or strife, 
Forgive me now and hold this true : 
With all my heart, I love and pray for you. 



38 



A QUESTION 

^^T T THAT is rest?" a maiden cried, 

W Then she, listening, bent her head: 
"Rest," an aged man replied, 

"Is known but to the dead." 
"Not so, old man!" cried the child of fame, 

"Have I not found my rest 
In power and wealth and glorious name 

Of life's bright joys, the best"? 
"Live on, O child of fortune fair," 

The old man slowly said, 
"And when this time shall be the past 

And I have long since joined the dead, 
Remember then the solemn words 

That passed my withered lips, 
And ask thy heart if it drained the cup 

Which now it only sips — 
If so — thou wilt have found — poor child, 

That wealth and glories here 
Lead not to peaceful vales of rest, 

But to deserts lone and drear/' 



39 



WHEN THE STORM IS PAST 

THE poet-heart has sung to all, 
"Into each life some rain must fall'' 
But these sad words have brought to me 
No pang of grief or agony. 
For if into my day of life 
Come clouds of dark and bitter strife, 
If rain must fall and thunders roll 
And I must hear the death-bell toll, 
I know that when the storm is past 
And clouds have scattered far and fast, 
When rain no longer swells the rills 
And no thunder echoes thro' the hills, 
I know that then the sun's rays bright 
Will shine with more resplendent light 
And make a thousand gems to gleam. 
Where once, but only tears were seen. 



40 



THE FALLEN OAK 

HOW many storms hast thou withstood, 
O! dear, old, noble tree! 
And now to see thy prostrate form, 
Sad thoughts doth bring to me. 

Bright days have dawned and paled on thee, 
Dark ones have brought their storms, 

And both have lengthened into years, 
And laid low many forms. 

But thou hast stood thro' all, O Oak! 

The winds and waves of strife, 
Have beat against thy honored form, 

Wild calling for thy life. 

Still, when the years had spun the web 

Of days to thee allowed, 
When time had withered all thy limbs 

And wrapped thee in its shroud, 

Then, was thy stately form bent low 

Beneath its ruthless hand. 
For Father Time hath spared not one 

In any clime or land. 



41 



Thy spreading limbs, thy lofty head 
Which reared its crest so high, 

Thy age, thy grace, not one could save 
From the death which hovered nigh. 

And so it is with human life 

In every clime and land. 
Not youth — not age — aye — naught can save 

From Death's relentless hand. 



COMFORT 

WHEN the days grow long and darksome 
And are filled with anxious care, 
When your life seems poor and useless 

And its burden too great to bear, 
When those whom you love seem indifferent 

When their hearts grow ungrateful and cold, 
Remember there's one who loves you still 
As tenderly, dear, as of old. 



42 



THE SEA 

I stood by the sea one evening 
And watched the waters bright, 
As the sunbeams danced upon them 
Like gold-wing fairies bright. 

And I saw the tide ebb swiftly, 
And I heard its ripplings sweet, 

As the tiny waves washed the pebbles 
Where the land and water meet. 

And then, receding and laughing, 
And tossing their snowy heads, 

The waves went back to the ocean 
To rest in their seavveed beds. 

And as the sun sank lower 
And left the world all dark, 

I still stood and watched the ocean, 
With a sorrowful, aching heart. 

For I thought, as I saw the waters 

Ebb so silently and fast, 
How many hearts are thus carried away 

And lost in life's tide at last. 



43 



For tho' the waters seemed harmless 
As the shining beach they kissed, 

I knew that the treasures they bore away 
Would be lost in the cold, white mist. 

Just so with the tide of life's ocean, 
If it woo thy heart from thee, 

It wins it but to lose it, 
In the mist of its cold, cold sea. 

Then guard thy heart so closely 
That naught may steal it away, 

That no fierce storms may gather 
To darken thy life's bright day. 

Watch well the tide of life's ocean, 
Lest it bear thee far, far out 

Where the storms of sin and suffering 
Toss thy fragile barque about. 

And when life's day is fading, 

And its twilight gathers fast, 
May thy anchor be cast in Heaven, 

Where life's dangers will all be past. 



44 



HEARTS 

SOME hearts are made of silver bright, 
And some of the purest gold, 
And some are made of glittering ice, 

And some of marble cold. 
I know not of what your heart is made, 

Whether of silver or gold, 
Or of icicles caught from glacier fields, 

Or e'en of the marble cold. 
Yet still you must guard with sacred care— 

Your heart — whate'er it be — 
Silver or gold or marble rare 

Or ice from the polar sea. 

But, because it is hard to guard it well, 

No matter of what it be made. 
Oh ! place it within a triple shrine 

Till the debt of life be paid. 
Where find this triple shrine of strength, 

Wherein your heart to keep? 
In lowly thought and word and deed, 

'Tis hidden wondrous deep. 
This triple shrine will keep it safe 

From the darts of friends and foes. 
And you will rest in quiet peace 

A stranger to human woes. 



45 



A WISH 

MAY each year of your life, my dearest, 
As its noiseless flight it speeds, 
Leave you filled with peace and gladness, 

And crowned with holy deeds. 
May it leave in its trail no sorrow, 

No remorse nor bitter woe. 
May its deeds fall as gently and kindly 

As the beautiful, silent snow. 
And when this life is ended 

May your crown of glory bright 
Be the years of your earthly struggle 

Turned to jewels in Heaven's light. 



REST 

I ASKED of my soul this question, 
"O ! where can I seek for rest ? 
Is it on earth among creatures 
Or in Heaven among the blest?" 

And I listened awhile for the answer, 
In the silence of my retreat. 

And I heard in my heart a whisper, 
A voice like an angel's sweet. 

"Look not for rest among creatures, 
They cannot give it to you, 

But seek it where only it dwelleth, 
Beyond the skies so blue." 

"Give not thy heart to creatures 
If for true peace thou dost seek, 

For human love brings sorrow, child, 
As the only gift, thou canst keep." 

"But if thou dost ask me in wonder 
To whom shall I trust my heart — 

I say — to the Master who made it, 
From whose love we never can part." 



47 



The voice died away in the silence, 

But the echo remaineth yet, 
And will live in my heart's deep centre 

Till the sun of my life has set. 

And when after life's long battle 
My tired heart ceases to beat, 

I'll hear it again in Heaven, 
Where rest and my soul will meet. 



48 



FEB 28 1911 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proce 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 

PreservationTechnologk 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVAT 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 

KB Zll 1911 



